


Small Intimacies

by LurkerConnoisseur



Category: Red Embrace (Video Games)
Genre: Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Nail Polish, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 10:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17599409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LurkerConnoisseur/pseuds/LurkerConnoisseur
Summary: Going to make his report on vampire activities in San Fran Isaac finds Bishop in an odd mood. A mood that somehow leads to him painting his nails.





	Small Intimacies

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings Shippers this is my first fic in 12 years and I'm so excited. Inspired entirely by our Red Embrace play-through which have given birth to so many lovely headcanons. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9WDZ0efFtzg
> 
> This game captured my heart and fired my imagination. I hope you enjoy, and please leave me constructive feedback I am all ears or well eyes lol.
> 
> Super special thanks to SkyborneVeggies for an impromptu and much appreciated beta :) Not all heroes wear capes!

Bishop has been in an odd mood since Isaac had arrived at headquarters, the brunette had sensed it on his ride up the elevator. He’d also seen it in the downcast eyes of the guards positioned at the lower levels doors, but he's been able to feel it since he entered the penthouse.

Bishop was immaculate as always, well not as always, Isaac knows he's one of a handful to have ever seen him truly dishevelled. Still his hair doesn't need to be out of place for Isaac to recognize the signs, his coat is off and he's standing by the window cloth in hand. Said hand moving in a rapid motion, unbuttoning his vest Isaac strained to make it out. 

‘His nails, he's cleaning them off’. 

Isaac tenses before clearing his throat. A fruitless affectation, the vampire knows he's there.

“Strife between the clans?” the leader of both covens asks measuredly. Isaac can't help but smile some of the lingering adrenaline from seeing his weapons in action filling him with enthusiasm.

“The Helgen and Seirei have managed to turn some of the seedier abandoned warehouses into their own private battlegrounds.” “No one’s noticed, but the Helgen are ready to make more of an impact.” He pushes his glasses up against the bridge of his nose as he speaks, keeping many of the details vague.

“And you stayed to watch I suppose?” Bishop purrs looking up at him for the first time, nails now free of varnish, glinting as they crumple the cloth he's been using.

“Naturally, I had to know how things turned out, you can't trust word of mouth, especially not the word of a vampire.” It's a dig but it only earns him a laugh which to the brunette's annoyance sounds almost genuine.

Bishop strides past close enough to brush his shoulder, a gesture he knows is deliberate, and settles down on a leather couch beside him; where Isaac dimly notes he has all the things he needs to put on his rather Gothic affectation. 

The tone of the evening is off. Bishop isn't asking enough questions, he's not giving Isaac an opportunity to leave. Instead he's picked up the bottle of black polish and is fiddling with the cap. However, in a moment that would have amused an onlooker the lid refuses to budge; a combination of too long nails, and not wanting to crush the bottle with supernatural strength. There's something about the scene that draws Isaac to it, he can't look away, it's just so...human.

Without thought he finds himself dropping to his knees and taking the bottle from Bishop's hands, deftly opening the cap unencumbered by talons of his own.

“Let me do it.” You'll break it and it'll get on everything.” It's only after he's done it that the brunette realizes he's forgotten himself. 

The wall he always keeps so careful erected between Bishop and himself, it’s gone. He doesn't dare look up for fear of what he'll see on Bishop's face, smugness, amusement, both.

Slowly Bishop's talons reach down, taking the bottle from his hand, nails grazing the pads of his fingertips in a way that makes goosebumps appear on Isaac's arms; and he's grateful that the coven leader can't see, but knows he's probably picked up the slight increase in his heart rate.

“I suppose I'll have to get one of my pets to redo them for me, once you're done your report of course.”

The tone is smooth and as unruffled as ever and it makes Isaac acutely aware that he's still on his knees before him, arms now hanging awkwardly at his sides. He thinks he can detect a hint of teasing in Bishop's tone, he knows how much Isaac hates seeing the evidence of Bishop's lifestyle. How callously he views humans. All except him it seems. He thinks it's all designed to make him feel special. It's easier to deal with that than the persistent concept that lurks in the back of his mind that...to Bishop he is special. That thought is simply intolerable.

Still he won't let anyone come up here, not when the vampire's mood is so indecipherable. Without speaking he reaches up and snatches the bottle back, an action Bishop allows, and places it on the small end table beside the couch Bishop has taken up residence on. Without pausing to over-analyze his actions, a skill that had seen him safely through many a deal and negotiation, Isaac grabs his master's hand and holds it firmly in his own.

Leaning back he notes the iridescent shine of the nails so unlike human nails. This part of vampire lore held true, if one starred at them too long it became impossible to believe they could belong to a human. It doesn't help that Bishop keeps his at their supernatural length. Reaching beside him Isaac removes the cap and its attached bristles, careful to wipe some of the excess off of the rim. Hands steady he paints a stripe down the centre, gently titling the hand to the left, then the right, repeating the motion.

The room is completely silent minus the hum of the few electronics it contains. Objects kept there out of necessity for the room's occasional human occupants, himself included. Gently, Isaac finishes off the fingers and takes hold of Bishop’s thumb, positioning it firmly in the centre of his open palm. Taking a more generous amount to cover the increased surface, he starts in. 

His focus breaks when the appendage lightly curls brushing against his hand. Managing not to shudder Isaac commends himself for only making a mess. He’s gone outside Bishop’s nail line, off to the right. Quickly he uses his own thumbnail to swipe away the excess before it has a chance to dry. Above him Bishop chuckles, a sound Isaac studiously ignores. With the one hand complete he places it down onto the arm rest and picks up the other hand repeating the process.

His mind is blank, the only things that exist are Bishop’s nails, slowly transforming from clear to their usual black. The minutes tick by as he moves from finger to finger, as he neared Bishop's ring finger he hears rustling as the vampire curls his free hand round the edges of his glasses removing them.

“I'm nearly done.” He wants to snatch them back, but his position is too precarious.

“You're nearly done what?” Bishop drawls. Isaac knows the blank he's supposed to fill, the title Bishop is looking for, though he can't tell if he's being serious or teasing him. He hasn't forced the issue in years.

“I'm nearly done... Bishop,” he responds slowly, allowing a hint of defiance to creep into his voice. Refocusing he moves onto the final thumb, preparing to finish, when as he manipulates the cold hand in his grasp it suddenly shifts. His wrist is caught in a vice, squeezing too tightly yet simultaneously applying no pressure; like being trapped in the clutches of a statue.

Involuntarily, Isaac finds his eyes darting up to Bishop’s face and finds himself frozen. The expression there is worse than he could have imagined. There's the usual hunger that typically appears when he manages to provoke him, but besides that, perhaps even exceeding it, is a fondness. It's that look that makes him pull back and try to free himself.

It's useless, with one quick tug Bishop has him pulled flush against him held in an awkward position, looking up as he’s still on his knees. Head straining upwards he can see in his peripheral vision that Bishop's other hand is returning to the armrest, one finger tinged with blood.

Isaac's eyes widened, he'd opened himself, but where? He doesn’t have to wait long for the answer. Leaning down to bridge the gap between them, Bishop kisses him.

He'd tightened his grip on his captive wrist on the way down, so Isaac had gasped and opened his mouth. Bishop’s tongue gently curls against his own, coaxing a response, as much as the need to swallow, the thick liquid dripping into his mouth. It should have been disgusting, metallic and salty, but it isn’t like always. It’s sweet. He seeks out the flavour, licking across Bishop's fangs careful not to cut himself, hunting the source of the sweet elixir even though he knows the wound has already closed.

Bishop pulls back from him abruptly and loosens the grip on his wrist, tugging him upright to sit beside him, almost in his lap. Isaac can feel the shame creeping up in him as he allows it all, and can even feel himself anticipating what the vampire will do next.

“You can't help yourself can you Isaac? You're drawn to us,” as he speaks Bishop closes the nail polish container and lays it off to one side.

Pausing he holds his one completed hand up, allowing it to reflect the overhead light. Smiling softly he focuses back on Isaac and says the words he knows will make the younger man come undone completely.

“Thank You Isaac.”

Without his glasses on there are no barriers between the two except the ones Isaac works so hard to maintain, and as much as he wants to fight it the praise feels good. Bishop never thanked him for the things one would expect; not for maintaining discord between the vampire clans, not for keeping his secrets, not for covering up when the younger vampires went too far, but he will for things like this. The small intimacies Isaac works so hard to forget, and have caused his plans to take so long to coalesce.

It's too easy here, too easy to remember the kindnesses, the protection, too easy to forget the world.

Isaac freezes, his eyes guarded as Bishop leans in slowly, planting a kiss on the edge of his mouth, pulling back just slightly to murmur a question.

“Go or Stay?”

Unable to keep himself from drifting ever so slightly in Bishop's direction, Isaac closes his eyes to steel himself before he pulls back to look directly into the crimson pools of the vampiric eyes before him decision made...

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

STAY WITH BISHOP

LEAVE


End file.
